


The problem with maps and other short works

by agna333



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crossover, Drabble Collection, OOCness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Insert, The crack made me do it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agna333/pseuds/agna333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, what really, really, really pisses me off?" I said as soon I entered my sisters room. "Why the hell is everything in supernatural the US? I get the plot and the brothers, but what the hell is Cain doing in Missouri of all places? Shouldn't he be somewhere... I don't know... India, maybe?" <br/>My sister's disinterested stare probably said enough. "Am I supposed to know, who is Cain?"<br/>"Well... Yeah. Biblical character rings a bell? Well, I just don't get, how he got into America... Why he had the urge to go to the America, for that matter."<br/>"Then write a story about it..." Mumbled my sister, eyes already glued back to the screen of her own computer and mind probably somewhere I didn't really know.</p>
<p>And so, this kinda... happened. Enjoy, more in authors note inside, so you won't get mistificated :).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Map 1

**Author's Note:**

> Every fan probably had that moment at least once, the one where you stopped, stared confusedly and thought "Why would they do that?"
> 
> Well, I took supernatural. It is probably my favourite show of all time, so, these instances happen quite a lot. And this is my attempt of using utter and shameless crack to explain some of them. 
> 
> Well, okay, that is true only for about a third of these little drabbles. The rest, that's just crack, no attempted explanation inside. So, enjoy :).

The search was on. The artefact needed was rare, so rare in fact, there were only two or three in the world today. Cas was nowhere to be found, didn't respond to prayers and the time was slowly and surely running out. It was time for some good old magic ritual.  


The ingrediences were ready, and the only thing missing was-  


"Wow, wow, Dean, there's no telling, if it's in the US. Why aren't you setting up a bigger map, man?"  


Dean Winchester looked up from an older map of the United States of America. He bliked a few times in confusion, before it visibly dawned on him, what is his younger brother's problem.  


"Oh, and what the hell do you want me to do, huh? What do you think we're gonna do, if it's somewhere in damn Asia? Fly there? No chance, pal. If it's not in driving distance, it's like it doesn't exist!"  


Sam Winchester stared at him incrediously. He opened his mouth several times, as if to say something, but then closed it again each time. In the end, he just shrugged helplessly.  


"Fair enough. Though I would much rather know, if it's there somewhere..."  


"Yeah, well, next time, we can do the ritual several times, to find out, if it's in Russia or fricking Africa. Like it would make a difference..."


	2. Pepper-spray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vamp had it coming anyway...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vampires at the beggining of the series were pretty badass. Their level of badassery has steadily declined with the boys getting stronger, wiser and more and more experienced. Except then it rised back up and higher in the sixth series, after Dean became one of them. SInce then, vamps has been there basically for the boys to wip the floor with them. Which I wouldn't mind, if they wouldn't hide from the creatures, able to hear a heartbeat three rooms over, behind the corner... -_-"
> 
> So, this is my take on, why that could be.

As the vampire Daniel returned to his lair, he cursed loudly. And then rammed his nose into the closed door, cursed again and hopped around for a few minutes, after the table moved over his toe (yes, it had to have moved, he would swear up and down, it wasn't there before he left). Damn girl and her pepper-spray! Normally, he was able to smell any human in the vicinity better than a dog, see in the dark better than a cat and hear a heartbeat several streets over. He was a hunter, and he stalked his prey for a few hours, before swooping in. What he didn't anticipate, was the speed with which the girl whipped out some kind of can (he was still a little rusty on his modern technology, so sue him), and sprayed a horrible burning concoction all over his face. And ran away, so he didn't even get a meal out of it. Now his vision was blurry, his ears were ringing and his nose was congested in a way, he remembered only vaguely from his early human years.  


He made an attempt to get to his bllod bank in the fridge /blood can fix anything for a vamp, except for maybe death), rammed his shoulder into the doorway, and groaned when a distant sound of overturned table was followed by the shattering of his favourite mug. What is he going to drink his morning coffee from now?  


He finally managed to find the handle of his fridge and started to pull, when he lost his head. Literally.  


When he much later woke up in purgatory, finally clear-eyed and hearing the monsters around him just fine, he once again cursed the damn girl and her pepper-spray. Surely, this wouldn't have happened otherwise!  


\--  


Sam and Dean Winchester stood over the headless vampire body, Dean holding a bloody machette.  


"That was... disturbingly easy." frowned Sam and looked around at the chipped door, overturned table and pulled of handle of the fridge door, littering the floor. "He seemed almost... drugged."  


Dean shrugged. "Whatever it was, I ain't complaning. Otherwise, with their senses, he should have been able to hear our hearts from a mile away."  


"Yeah, I guess. Let's clean up, then, and hope it's not the last time we come across a drugged vamp."  


Sam laughed at his half-assed joke, but his brother stayed more or less serious.  


"Oh, Sammy, I have a feeling, it will happpening more and more..."


	3. The mightily annoying self-insert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically what the title says. Beware of self-insert!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We couldn't really help ourselves. The boys are really out of character and the ocs functioning as our self-inserts are unbelievely annoying but... It's fun O:-).
> 
> _cursive_ is used as a foreign language in here, in this particular chapter it would be French.

"...and to kill it, we need... Oh, a knife from some kind of rock only found in Poland. Awesome." sighed Sam at the end of his monologue.  


Dean looked at him exasperadly for a while and then sighed. "O-kay, then. Can we get it, somehow? Order it from somewhere or something?"  


Sam clicked around on his notebook for a little while and then shook his head. "There was one dagger in France, bought by... Leo H. Gertrude? Is that even a real name? It doesn't sound very french..."  


"Yeah, well, not really our bussiness. Wait a sec, I think Bobby knew someone from Europe..." Dean started to look through their mentor's phone book. "Aha! There it is, Anna and Mary O."  


"What else does it say?"  


"Just a number and a bunch of letters, ehm... AG, L, F, S, Cz, G and SL. Any idea, what that means?"  


"None at all." Sam looked over his brother's shoulder. "Well, it does look like a phone number from Europe... German, I think?"  


"And how, in the seven hells, do you know that?" Sam looked up from his phone, already typing in the number, and shrugged.  


"Nerd."  


Sam finished typing, sat at a table and pressed something on the phone, so that the room was filled with the sound of ringing. Just as Dean sat opposite, somebody picked up.  


" _-up, it's an american number. I think it's Bobby._ Hello?"  


"Er..." Sam looked at Dean, and continued. "Hey, this is Sam... We found you in Bobby' phone book, would you..."  


"Wait, wait, you took Bobby's phone book and then proceded to call his contacts? You must be a special kind of stupid burglars..."  


Despite the french used before, the voice had an accent neither of the boys heard before. The voice also decidedly sounded like a young female. "What have you done with him, anyway?" She didn't sound worried at all. More interested, than anything.  


"What, we haven't done anything with-"  


" _No, it's not Bobby. I don't know. Some Sam... Hm._ " The voice sounded a little away, like she didn't talk into the phone, but still held by her ear. Dean seemed to quickly loose patience, so Sam decided to move on.  


"No, we haven't done anything. Look, we need to get our hands on a dagger made from Faeris. Last one was bought in France, could you..."  


"Well, we are about two days of journey from France."  


Dean frowned." Well, that's not so bad... If you go immediately, you can be there monday, so..."  


"I'm not sure, what are you smoking, but no, we are not going anywhere. Is it good stuff?" A faint laughter sounded in the backround.  


"Listen, here..." The sleepless nights of last week seemed to take it's toll. "I don't care, where you're camping at, if you don't start to take this seriously, i'm gonna find you, and..." He would have probably continued with describing, what he was going to do to them, if not for the faint conversation.  


" _You think, he could? I don't know._ " And even fainter voice answered.  


" _Nah, they are american. We are in Paris, do you really think they could speak french well enough to find us here?_ "  


" _True._ Bye!" Called the first voice into the phone and hanged the phone. Dean got up, almost broke the chair in half in the process and threw himself on the bed.  


"Fucking brats..." he mumbled.  


Sam stared for a minute at the phone and then chuckled.  


"Paris, huh... I thought they were two days away. They must think we are really stupid." He shook his head and redialled the number.  


The annoyed "what?" didn't really seem to suprise him, as he preceded to tell his request once again... In french.  


After a little bit of silence the voice asked embarassedly. "What did you say your name was?"  


"Sam Winchester."  


"Sakra. Okay, we'll look into it. Call you tommorow."  


This time, when the younger Winchester brother put down his phone, he looked more than a little smug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakra is a czech swear word. Think damn, or bloody hell. Just saying :).


	4. Languages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the language barrier makes things really difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the hell do greek gods talk in English? Why do biblical characters (and lets be honest, there are quite a few) talk in English? How would it look like, if a character didn't? Let's find out...
> 
> _cursive_ is once again a language one of the characters doesn't understand, in this case, it's english.

He was one of the ancients, the oldest people, who walked the earth along with the monsters. Monsters, who could swallow a man whole with one bite, monsters, whose foul breath destroyed trees and killed animals, and whose teeth were the size of a small man.  


The monsters were all sealed now, luckily. Well, luckily for the people of today, not for him. Because you see, he was one of the unlucky guys, who sacrificed themselves to seal the monster Arachné from this world, and in the exchange, his soul had to stay sealed along with the monsters for all eternity.  


After a while, it wasn't so bad, he got used to it. Arachné was more of a hoarder of pretty shiny things, than a vicious killer, she just had the problem of being very protective of everything she deemed as hers, and she deemed hers anything she liked and was shiny. When she took everything, that could possibly shine on him, she left him alone and boarded herself in endless spider webs on her side of the seal.  


But then one day, the seal shook. And then it shook again and a hole appeared in its middle. Before the ancient could do anything, Arachné was gone. He groaned and followed her. Who knows, what shiny thing she decided was hers now, and how many people she killed, because she deemed them to be a threat to her new posession.  


He appeared outside of the seal in a holy place. Well, he thought it was a holy place, thought, why there were crosses everywhere, he couldn't really understand. Then he noticed two young men staring at him and flickered towards them. They jumped at first, but calmed down, when he stood infront of them for a few minutes, smiling at them mildly. Good, they seem to know something about the afterlife, that will make things easier to explain.  


"Greetings, young ones, I am Arthias. I was sealed with the great Arachné to guard her passage. Will you help me seal her back and right a wrong?"  


The two men looked at one another worriedly and confusedly. Arthias took that as a doubt.  


"Do not worry, the ritual is not as difficult or dangerous, as it would seem. You just have to..."  


" _Do you have any idea, what he's saying? It's just gibberish to me._ " The older one said in a strange language. It sounded hard and angry, though that could be just the tone the man used.  


The younger shrugged and took out a weird thing. When he pressed something on it, it lighed up. Ah, mages then. Even better. The young man put the glowing magic box to his ear and mumbled into it for a little while. Then held it put towards the ghost's face and mimed to talk into it.  


Arthias blinked confusedly, but tried again. "Hello, my name is Arthias. Will you help me seal the runaway beast Arachné?"  


The box started to shout angrily in the same language the young men used and Arthias jumped back. " _Do you think I know every damn language under the sun and sea, ya idjits? Stop playing games with me, I never heard that before. Call, when you have an actual problem to solve!_ " Then the thing went dark again.  


Ah, so their little translation charm didn't work. Arthias sighed and looked around for a stick he could use. Pictograms in the sand it shall be.


	5. Grimm - Nick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Burkhardt hates FBI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like supernatural, my sister likes Grimm, and this is kinda the result. I like to think, Nick is somewhere around 3-5 years after the series, but think of you will :). Also, there is no explaining done. Just pure crack.

The body was, well... mangled wasn't really the right word for it. The head was really the only thing somewhat recognizable - which made the identification of the victim somewhat easier - but it was also the biggest piece of the body present. Nick made a disgusted face and shook his head. He really hated, when somethnig like this happened in his town. Luckily, he finally knew, what the hell he was dealing with, and the chase will be ending tonight. The Grimm side of him growled in satisfaction and started to mentally catalogue the weapons he might need.  


Suddenly, the sound ofloud voices carried over to him and Nick raised his head.  


Two young men in oficial looking suits stood behind the marker line and waved around with FBI badges. Nick growled. He hated FBI. Like, really hated.  


He made to them just as a young officer was about to let them in. He gestured of the officer to move along and turned to the suits.  


"Agents, I'm detective Burkhardt. What can I do for you today?"  


The younger, who didn't look older than twenty-five, smiled tensely.  


"Detective, a pleasure. I'm agent Malone, this is my partner agent Smith. We are here about the series of murders you have here? Four with this one, correct? We will need to see the body before the coroner hets here."  


Nick let him talk, nodding a few times and then shrugged. "Sure, agents, but I will need the formular about your assigment, the letter from your superior and the ofiicial seal of approval. You know, bureaucracy, hate that as much as you do."  


The older, who could be about thirty, looked ready to yell, but the younger just smiled uneasily and by the look and sound of it, stepped on the older's foot.  
"I'm afraid we left those in our place of residence, we arrived only hours ago. Surely-"  


"You will have to look at our reports then, agents, I'm terribly sorry. Surely you understand, we want no trouble here."  


The older blond one growled silently and the younger nodded, while he started to push his partner out towards a very un-FBI-like black beast of a car.  


"Of course, detective. We will be along tommorow with the paperwork you need, then."  


The young man nodded for the last time and finally left. Nick watched them drive away and then smiled smugly. Wu slowly came over and looked at him worriedly.  


"I get you have bad experience with the FBI, Nick, but was that really necessary?"  


"No, it wasn't," allowed Nick, but continued quickly over Wu's confused face. "But I will be damned, if those stiff assholes throw a glitch into my case one more time."  


He growled and turned back towads the body, leaving a very confused Wu behind.


	6. Map 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain isn't in Missouri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second version of the map, this time with an alternative ending. Once again, more or less pure crack.

Crowley and Dean Winchester stood in front of a map of the United States of America. At least, what was left of it.  


It should have showed them, where to find Cain, the one, who should have told them, how to kill Abaddon. Instead, the map burnt completely black, without leaving the place indicated clear.  


"Great." hissed Dean finally. "Now, what?" he turned towards the King of Hell. At least, to the place, where the said King stood just seconds ago.With a put upon sigh, he set out to do the ritual again, this time with a wordl map. After finding out cain was spending his immortal life somewhere in India, he growled and got rid of the rest of the ingrediences by throwing the table against the nearest wall.  


After a few hours spent in the calm company of beer and whiskey, he was able to agree with the little annoying voice in his head - sounding suspiciously like a teenage Sammy -, that it never made sense an ancient biblical character would spent his life on the new continent.  


A few weeks later - with the reluctant help of a very pissed of Sam - they would return to the Elysian fields hotel, the final resting place of archangel Gabriel, and retrieved his blade, to use on the red-headed Knight of Hell. But that was later...


	7. Beasts of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some monsters are smarter than others...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never understood, how, when the W-boys are so famous in the hunter world (even Eve, who spent the last few millenia more or less buried, knew about them), no monster, they ever met, knew, who they were. Well, what if they did recognize them, just once?

After the last few months filled with demons, angels, archangels, dying, coming back from the dead and dying again, a small vampire nest was exactly what they needed.  


They more or less knew what they were dealing with the moment they saw the first body. Besides, the vamps seemed to be extremely stupid - letting themselves be caught in dead ends, going for types of victims and making it stupidly easy for the Winchesters to track them.  


After killing the fourth, they finally found the definite number of the members of the nest and more importantly, its location.  


The warehouse was dark, dirty and everywhere on the floor, walls and furniture were stains none of the brothers really wanted to know the nature of.  


The two remaining vamps should be here somewhere. They were also the oldest of the nest, makers of the most of them and a couple, which made Sam and Dean somewhat wary.  


But as they quietly walked through the place, no sound was heard, not even the dust moved. After a while they came onto a crossroad and split without a sound. Sam walked a bit through the left corridor, before he heard his brother. Unable to identify, what kind of sound it was, he readied his machette and quickly backtracked.  


As he caught up to Dean, he finally realized his brother was laughing. Deep guffaws were leaving his mouth, as the blond hunter shook his head and covered his mouth as if to stop them. Sam wanted to scold him for making so much noise in enemy territory, but then he caught sight of the wall behind Dean.  


The sign was simple, written in red and looked about two days old.

"IT'S THE WINCHSTERS, WE'RE OUTTA HERE! A+M"


	8. Grimm - Sam&Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick can be quite obvious, when trying to get information too...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to give Sam and Dean some credit too, after all, Nick isn't perfect either (not even close), and the fact nobody noticed he's dissappearing into the same trailer at least once a week the whole of first season, shouldn't go unpunished :).

Sam could easily tell, Dean was pissed at the dark-haired detective. It might have been the murder of the sandwich they had for dinner, or maybe the quiet cursing that came from Dean the whole hour it took to get through the trafic from the crime scene to their motel room. It also might have been the fact, that his brother now stubbornly insisted the detective is somehow guilty of the murder ("It's instinct, Sammy, something's not right with that guy!"), or it also could that right now, the brothers were camped out in the Impala infront of the detectives house, waiting for him to do something.  


When it neared midnight - Sam was just about to try for the seventh time to get his pissed off brother back to the motel room and get some sleep - when the front door opened and no one else, than detective Burkhardt peared out. He apparently didn't notice the Impala - which Sam thought to be a small miracle - because he went to a big old car stood on the side of his house, started it and drove away.  


When this time, Dean made to follow him, Sam didn't argue. This really wasn't normal.  


The guy drove into a caravan field and drove out only minutes afterwards, going around the city to the nearby woods.  


The brothers naturally followed, once again.  


The next few hour weren't the weirdest the brothers saw, but they definitely counted into the top ten. The guy found a small cabin in the woods and went in. Only seconds after a weird almost snakey-like guy ran out, screaming something about a grim and was promptly killed by the detective. With a mace. To the head.

The detective growled something about soiled clothes and went back to his car. He drove back towards the caravan park. He stayed there for several hours this time, so the brothers found him in a small trailer on a side. They waited - dazedly, still not entirelly sure, what they saw, and what to do about it - until he left. And when the coast was clear, they broke - again, naturally - into the trailer.  


\--

  


When the agents didn't show the next day, Nick wasn't really suprised and just rolled his eyes amd shook his head at the stupidity of the FBI. But even if he slept barely three hours, he couldn't be in a bad mood. The murdering asshole was dead, his own Grimm-book would soon be complete, and the latest acquisition had an almost finished entry. He would have to return today, to do that, but he kinda liked that part of being a Grimm, so it wasn't that much of a burden.

When he got to the trailer that evening, panic seized him for a few minutes. He always locked, always, so why were the doors ajar?  


After quickly looking thourgh the trailer and finding nothing missing, he breathed out. Only then did he notice his own book opened on his latest unfinished entry, when he placed back into its place on the shelf the previous evening, and a piece of paper next to it.

Dear detective-hunter,  
you didn't have to be such an asshole about it. We would have helped.  
S&D W


End file.
